


it is out of sight and none shall see

by asheijis



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt, Gen, M/M, Okumura Eiji-centric, Post-Canon, Post-Side Story: Garden of Light, also this happens post ny sense in an au where akira and sing do not get together bc . No, basically 4k or eiji dealing w the drawbacks of putting photos of ash out publicly, have this drabble, is there comfort? a tiny bit yes, its hard to properly heal when journalists want to interview u abt ur dead boyfriend, max has immense dad energy, ocs but for the sake of ✨plot✨, sing is . too tall now, still sad tho!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:00:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28387416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asheijis/pseuds/asheijis
Summary: journalists anymore always want to ask about the summer of '85 and eiji never has an answer
Relationships: Ash Lynx & Okumura Eiji, Ash Lynx/Okumura Eiji, Max Lobo & Okumura Eiji, Okumura Eiji & Sing Soo-Ling
Kudos: 31





	it is out of sight and none shall see

**Author's Note:**

> hi im posting this from my phone i wrote this like a madman bc i had to get it Out of my system thank u also title from weight of living pt1 by bastille !!

_ Hi we’re calling to see if you wanted to comment on your recent photography book that was released to the public, if you would like to call us back our number is- _

Eiji hung up before he had to hear more of the person's nasally voice. The phone calls kept getting more and more frequent, always worded oddly, always missing the same puzzle piece. What did they want his comment on? It was always left blank, vague, as if they were to either ask him about the lens he uses, or about his past pole vaulting, or something in between. He’d learned to read between the lines after Max and he took a look through one of the prospective interviewer’s records. 

“They want to know about Ash, don’t they?” Eiji drummed his fingers on the table, Buddy sat at his feet on a plush dog bed. Max’s blonde hair mingled with the bits of grey that snuck their way in, not enough to properly broadcast his age, but enough if you had known what he looked like before. Eiji had on pajamas, a steaming mug of tea sat in front of him as Max had a mug of coffee likewise. 

“Yeah, seems like it.” Max sighed, running a hand along his stubble as he looked down at the papers in pity. “Goddamn vultures, can’t keep their heads out of everybody’s business.” He took a big sip of his coffee, shifting in his seat. He came to rest his elbows on the table, glancing up at Eiji before looking back down at his coffee. He seemed to watch it for a moment, both of them becoming quiet as the truth Eiji had hoped was a simple paranoid thought was truly brought to light. “Listen, if this keeps happening, just tell them no. If they keep persisting-” Max clicked his teeth, “Call me again. Or Jenkins, even if he’s retired, he still had some sway.” 

Eiji just hummed, bringing his mug to his lips and relishing in the warmth it brought. The rest of the day had been spent with Max and Michael, both of them happy to simply be around Eiji. Michael liked taking Buddy on walks and EIji was glad to see him smiling when Eiji showed him a collar with a tiny bowtie he’d gotten. Michael had lit up, immediately going to switch Buddy’s tag over to the new one, promising to be back in a few. Max and EIji had simply talked while the boy was gone, not about anything in particular, though Eiji had fallen asleep on him at some point. He had woken up to Max tutting around him, a blanket sprawled on him as Michael similarly fretted over something he was making in the kitchen. After a meal and a flustered goodbye from a tired Eiji, they departed and Eiji was left with Buddy again. 

Eiji knew the call had been trying to get a story out of him. He’d thought it was just another paranoid thought of his, one of the ones that never really went away, no matter his efforts. Max had simply confirmed it. Ever since that day, he felt a bit better when he turned away every other journalist who came to get his comment on nothing in particular. Eiji wasn’t looking to tell Ash’s story for him. It wasn’t his place. 

Sing knew about it, he was bound to find out at some point. He’d come in while Eiji was going through the answering machine one day. “Shouldn’t you have an assistant to do that, Eiji?” He was joking, lighthearted. He didn’t want Eiji to overwork himself like he’d found he did after living with him more often than not for years. Too many nights were spent with Sing dealing with him while he was cranky and tired, upset at the fact that he didn’t finish all that he’d wanted to that day. Sing would send him off to bed, practically forcing him to at least  _ lay down _ , before he’d sneak off to lay on the couch. Sing caught the end of the message, the almost immediate delete confirmation tone ringing. “What, you’re not doing interviews anymore?” Sing cocked his head, leaning an elbow on Eiji’s head. 

“They aren’t wanting an interview with me, Sing.” Eiji clicked through to the next message, letting it play. It was a simple spam message. Delete. 

“Why’d they call you then?” 

“They want an interview about Ash.” He could feel the way Sing froze up. Even after all these years, after Sing had told him in no uncertain terms that Eiji needed to let go, Sing still hadn’t. The silence was palpable. 

“How long has this been going on?” 

“Since I released Dawn, though it got worse after New York Sense.” The next message was much the same as the last, simple spam. 

“If it’s that bad, I could… y’know.” Sing gestured the hand on top of Eiji’s head. Eiji turned to level a look at him and he sighed, resigned. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” Eiji went back to the answering machine, flitting through the next few messages with practiced ease. He felt Sing lift his arm, heard him step away, but continued his ministrations. Once he finally got to the end of the messages, he turned around, Sing being nowhere in the living room. A gentle tapping told him all he needed to know. He busied himself in the kitchen, making up two mugs of tea to take into the computer room, finding Sing sat there, typing away. 

“Don’t squint while you’re wearing glasses.” Eiji flicked the side of his head, placing the mug on a coaster that was sat on a smaller side table next to the bed. Sing frowned, but let up, scooting away and taking a sip from the mug as Eiji perched himself on the end of the bed. “What are you working on here?” 

“Looking up to see if anybody’s wanting to be a photographer’s assistant.” Eiji must have had an unimpressed look on his face as Sing stammered. “Listen, I just think you need a break sometimes!”

“How am I meant to pay them, Sing?” Eiji crossed his legs, taking a sip from his tea, feeling the warmth to the pit of his stomach. 

“If you need to, I can just give you the necessary funds to pay them.” Eiji squinted at him from above the rim of his mug, Sing seeming to want to shrink away from his gaze. “Think of it as repayment for letting me crash here so much, alright?” 

“I won’t be happy about it.” Eiji relented, turning to look at the clock as Sing sighed in relief, the familiar tapping once again resuming. Eiji remembered being woken up by it a lot, the first few months his brain tricking him into thinking it was someone else clicking away at the keyboard. Then he’d fully wake up. It only happened once in a blue moon anymore. 

“Look, she seems nice! A prospective photographer like you were, twenty, open to helping around the studio.” Eiji simply hummed as Sing wrote down her contact information, handing the piece of paper to him. He took another sip of his tea. 

Caroline had turned out to be perfectly fine working with him. She had met up with him over some lunch, bringing her own portfolio with her. Eiji had looked through it, seeing the shots, mainly of the ocean flit by as he turned the pages. Eiji had complimented her, telling her it was some of the loveliest landscape photography he’d seen, and she had simply smiled, thanking him. All the pictures carried an attention to detail, the way a branch of a leafless tree framed an oddly perfect wave just off the shore. Even ones she admitted she didn’t like had a certain charm to them. She had agreed to the job, even after hearing his odd request of denying interviews if they were too vague, but she was understanding nonetheless. 

A few weeks later, he was sitting in his own apartment again, meeting with a journalist who had a decent track record. He had said he wanted to interview him to properly explore why Eiji was a photographer in the first place. So far, it was alright. 

“Here, have some tea.” Henry passed over a cup from the cafe across the street, smiling gently as Eiji accepted with a nod. He soon busied himself with setting up his recorder while Eiji tended to Buddy, who was sitting up, tail wagging at the new visitor sitting in their living room. “Now, Eiji, I can see you like your home having a very homey feeling to it. It’s nice, it reminds me of how my grandma used to decorate.” 

“Really? I just like decorating with mementos, and lots of warm things.” Eiji took a sip of his tea, risking a glance. It did seem like a grandma’s house, but it was home, wasn’t it? “You can never go wrong with being surrounded with things that remind you of family and things that can warm up anyone on a snowy night.” 

“I usually decorate with more of a simple aesthetic, nothing too much, y’know?” Eiji simply nodded along with the man, leaning down to scratch Buddy behind the ears. Henry caught the movement, grinning. 

“And who’s this fluffball?” He glanced at Eiji for approval before leaning down, a hand coming to scratch under his chin. Buddy preened at the attention, his tail wagging even moreso. 

“That’s Buddy, my very best friend. Isn’t that right Bud?” Eiji spoke to him in a baby voice, Buddy quickly turning to lick his chin as Eiji leaned away, still petting him, now with both hands. 

“How’d you get him, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

Eiji clicked his tongue, glancing up at the mantle before looking back at Henry. “I found him when he was a little puppy in a trash can just outside a grocery store I used to frequent when I first came to New York.” The day had been warm and wet, and Eiji had walked into the store out of habit, remembering right before he pressed the button to call down an elevator. He’d opened his umbrella, taking a few steps, barely registering the heavy weight of his purchases in his hands. “I heard a whine,” He stepped closer to inspect it, wondering if something had happened, “And found a little Buddy staring back at me with those big, pleading eyes of his.” The dog had been on top of everything else, yet it had been shielding itself from the rain underneath a loose piece of cardboard. The cardboard had been soaked anyway, so it had done little, but he saw the puppy look back at him, not knowing if the look behind his eyes was hopeful or resigned. “I picked him up, took him to the vet, and kept him, and now look at how big he’s gotten? Isn’t that right Buddy?” The trip to the vet had been quick, easily taken care of, a simple medication prescribed to help the puppy get over a mild respiratory infection. Eiji had taken him home and cried once he’d fallen asleep on his pillow, and not wanting to move him, he’d slept on the couch. 

“Really?” Henry cocked his head, pausing in his petting of Buddy, to which the aforementioned dog whined. “That’s awfully thoughtful of you.” Henry smiled as he started back up scratching Buddy’s chin. He thumped his tail against the ground readily. 

“Well, there’s no knowing what would’ve happened if I hadn’t taken him in.” Eiji said simply, curtly. He remembers how his mom had tried joking about how Ash sent Buddy to look after him while he was gone. He also remembers having to apologize for hanging the phone up abruptly the next time she called. Eiji made a couple kissing noises at him, the wag of his tail somehow getting faster. 

“Have you ever taken any photos of him?” Eiji blinked, looking up to see genuine curiosity in the man’s eyes. He motioned for him to wait, walking back into the room he had dedicated to holding all of his albums and portfolios, shuffling through a few until he found the one he’d been looking for. When he came back out, Buddy was still being given attention, but had nestled himself down for a nap. 

“It should be right… here.” Eiji flipped through the chronological pages, until he got to August’s pages. “This is the first one I took of him, it was about a month after I found him.” The picture was of a tiny golden retriever, Buddy, sitting in a dog bed in front of a rain-streaked window overlooking the city. There was a warm glow from inside, illuminating Buddy’s whiskers, but predominantly lit by a cool blue haze from the window. A book sat open on the bed next to the small dog bed, only a few words visible behind a folded up piece of lined paper that was being used as a bookmark. A few empty mugs sat on the desk, barely in frame. 

“How modest!” Eiji looked back up to see Henry gazing at the picture. “I especially like the contrast between the inside and the outside, especially knowing how you found Buddy in the first place.” Eiji smiled, tilting his head in acknowledgment. “What inspired you to be a photographer in the first place, Eiji? You clearly have a talent for it.” 

“Well… when I was in high school I used to compete in pole vaulting.” Eiji leaned onto his hand, loosely flipping through the pages in the album as he spoke. Sing. Max. Jessica. Their road trip to pay respects now that Eiji had come back to America. “And I was pretty good at it! I was one of the best at the school I went to in my town. And one day, this man, Ibe Shunichi came to the school with a request - he wanted to photograph the pole vaulting team, specifically me.” Eiji ran his finger along the edge of another page as he flipped it. “It was… an experience. He ended up staying with my family while he was there. Long story short, he was able to get the shot he wanted and brought me to the showcase he submitted it to. It was odd to see myself from his point of view, you know? Seeing how I looked as I arched through the air from an outsiders’ perspective is much different from actually doing it.” 

“So how did you switch from pole vaulting to photography?” 

“I pushed myself too hard.” Eiji closed the album. “There was an underclassman who was doing everything I was doing, but better, and I wanted to prove I could still continue, that the spark that had brought Ibe to our little school was still there. My coach didn’t warn me, even when he admitted later than he noticed I was extending myself too far. A fracture in my ankle that would’ve been perfectly fine had I noticed and let it heal turned into something that still hurts sometimes even now.” Eiji smiled, able to talk about the incident much more freely than he had been able to prior. 

“My condolences.” Henry, for his part, looked genuinely troubled by the news. 

“Oh it’s fine, it happened so long ago, now.” Eiji was quick to brush off his concerns. “It felt like my life had amounted to nothing. I’d been building up doing pole vaulting until my mid twenties, riding the high of it, so when I suddenly couldn’t, I had no clue what to do. I ended up having to see the school counselor, then a therapist, then a psychiatrist. I got put on some medications to try helping, tried practicing coping skills, tried figuring out what it was exactly that I wanted to do. I wanted to pole-vault. And I still do every once in a blue moon- it’s an indescribable feeling, like you’re flying almost, as if you could touch the clouds if you just reached out your hand far enough.” Eiji flexed his fingers, glancing to see if Henry got the gist. He seemed to, so Eiji continued. “Ibe visited once he heard the news. I remember him coming into my room, seeing me curled up with a blanket, and telling me he was going to help if he could. He tried so, so hard.” Eiji enunciated with his hand. “It wasn’t until I caught a glimpse of the photo he’d submitted that I really broke down.” He still remembered seeing the edge of his leg cast against the clouds and feeling a sob wrench through his body, knees hitting the floor as Ibe barely registered what was happening, just that EIji had fallen. 

“I begged him to let me see it and he had this guilty expression on his face, like I wasn’t supposed to see it. I held it in my hands and I stared at it. It made me feel what it was like to pole-vault. The wonder in being able to launch yourself and if only for a moment, you’re suspended higher than before, and it was all due to your body, your will, and a simple pole.” His tears had dried after a few minutes of holding it in his shaky hands, Ibe standing by as he waited, a sad expression on his face. “I pointed at it and told Ibe - I want to do this.” He’d looked at him with such a pitiful look Eiji winced even now. “He didn’t understand, at first, of course he didn’t. I wanted to capture small moments, crystallizing what was felt when the camera shuttered, you know?” 

“Thank you for sharing, Mr. Okumura. That must have been rough.” Henry, for his part, tried. Eiji smiled politely, nodding. “And that’s when you visited New York for the first time with him?” Eiji blinked. There it was, rearing its ugly head. 

“I make it a rule not to disclose that part of my life, but he thought it would be a good change of pace for me.” Eiji reached down to pet Buddy, the dog shifting to chase his hand in his sleep. “It certainly was.” 

“Oh, my apologies, I wasn’t aware!” Henry looked apologetic enough, so Eiji let it go. “My boss was just adamant about it for some reason, but don’t worry, if you don’t want to share that’s quite alright.” 

“Your boss?” 

“Yeah he’s… a case. Only really obsessed with clicks and sales, y’know how his type is.” Henry rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yes, I do.” Eiji gestured a loose dismissive wave, picking his tea back up to sip at. It was cold now, but it would do. They sat there, Henry fiddling with his phone while shooting apologetic looks at Eiji as Eiji sat at his own table, petting Buddy. “If you, yourself are curious, I can say a couple words, but nothing you hear about it can be written in the paper.” Eiji tossed out the loose invitation, just wanting the silence to end. 

“Oh, I couldn’t ask that of you!” 

“Is your sudden demeanor change because of my possible  _ involvement _ with gang violence in my past?” Eiji levelled a look at him, the man looking like he saw a ghost. That was a yes. He didn’t have the heart to tell him the leader of one of the main gangs in New York still crashed at his place, sleeping either in the computer room or on the couch he was sitting on more often than not. 

“I’m truly sorry if I offended you sir, my boss just demanded I ask!” Henry had his hands clasped in front of him, looking to Eiji as if he was praying. It seemed a bit over the top, but whatever floats his boat. 

“I know, I know. He’s been practically every other journalist’s same reason for wanting to interview me for a long time.” Eiji sipped at his tea, crossing his legs. 

“He?” 

“I’m sure you’re aware since you seem to believe the gang violence stuff.” Eiji squinted at the man, unsure of if his face was conveying that he was genuinely surprised Eiji mentioned him, or if he actually had no clue what he was talking about. 

“I don’t? Know?” Henry laughed sharply, looking through something on his phone. His eyes widened and Eiji knew he’d found his answer. “Oh my god, my mom used to say she saw him a lot around this one apartment by where she raised me.” 

“Hm? Where? If it’s over by 50th, then yeah she probably did.” Eiji looked up, resting his chin in his hand. 

“It is. Oh my god I’m in a gang member’s apartment right now.” 

“You aren’t?” Eiji squinted his eyes, confusion evident across his face. 

“I’m not?” 

“No, apart from a couple things, I was never officially a member. More often than not they were tasked to keep me safe.” Eiji clicked his tongue. He was tired. 

“Really?” Henry tilted his head. 

“Yes, and once again if any of this gets into the paper, I do have lawyers.” Eiji sighed. Henry took note of this after nodding his head vehemently. 

“It’s not because you don’t want to be associated with gangs, is it?” Henry said it simply, as if that hadn’t been apparent. “I-I mean my boss assumed that was the issue, that you didn’t want your reputation ruined.” 

“My reputation?  _ Ruined _ ?” Eiji stared into his tea, swirling it around. “It was never about my reputation. The people I met are some of the most thoughtful people I’ve come to know. I wouldn’t mind people knowing about that safely, concealing their identities, if everybody didn’t think I would give them the all exclusive Ash Lynx paper they want.” It was as if a dam had burst open, Eiji setting down his drink with a decisive clink on the coaster. “I mean - my reputation? His reputation was bastardized for so long, he was made out to be this monster! Not even just by the media! You would not believe the genuinely horrendous people I met, who acted like he was some type of… pet project to them!” Eiji gestured out, hands flailing. “They want to know what he was like, why he did the things he did, where I fit in, who I was to him and its like a scab being reopened over and over and over again!” 

Henry barely had time to take a breath as Eiji continued on. “Not to mention that half of that isn't even my place to speak on! The only person who could decide whether people know about the ugly details is fucking dead! He’s dead and all I have are the photos!” Eiji slapped his hand on the album. There was a pregnant silence and the palm of his hand stung. 

“Seems like you needed to get that out.” Henry was still sitting where he had been, a bit shaken but otherwise looking fine. 

“Sorry.” Eiji cleared his throat, leaning back, his hand coming to rest on Buddy's head. “Just… sorry.” 

“Don't apologize, Mr Okumura! It's… clearly something you needed to get off your mind! Happens to everyone.” Henry was trying. “If it helps, I understand your frustration with the photos. The nature of how you take photos is like you said - to convey feelings.” 

“Yet I still get every other journalist asking what the truth was.” Eiji smiled bitterly. “It's almost enough to make me question if I'm really that good at photography if they can't just - tell.”

“Unwarranted questions can be very… demoralizing.” Henry nodded, glancing at the album for half a second longer than warranted. “Out of pure curiosity’s sake, would you mind if I took a guess to ease your worries?” Eiji rubbed his temples, sighing out what Henry assumed was a yes. “Where to start… I heard about Dawn a while ago, though the pieces didn't necessarily fit until now. I always thought the person was simply attempting to be. It's a peaceful setting, their relaxed posture offsetting the knit in their eyebrows. I assumed the subject was unaware, too caught up in their own head to notice the simple picture being taken. At the same time they obviously trusted the person behind the camera not to keep their guard up. It's a simple picture that drives home the comfort in being, if that makes sense.” 

“He’d woken up before me for the first time and he said he was watching the birds. It was probably a lie, but I let it go.” Eiji shrugged. 

“And with the several shots of him in New York Sense, the pictures always conveyed a domestic simplicity. Smiles, blankets, kitchens. Moments of unguarded niceties. A bit like remembering when you would cut open a sandwich to share late at night with someone you care for and who cares for you in return.” 

“He couldn't cook unless he had instructions, really.” Eiji took another sip of his tea, staring into the liquid as if it had all the answers. 

“I just think that if they're trying to get it out of you, they clearly don't get your photography.” Henry smiled gently, and for the first time in a while, Eiji felt he could trust a reporter to let things go. It was a comfort to see the paper go up, not a single hint indicating their final conversation had happened. Caroline texted him about how well he’d done with several too many exclamation points, and he’d simply replied with  _ thank you _ . 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> ty sm for reading hope u enjoyed :D


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